All Dressed Up...

Being Jack's mom is never boring. Sometimes, I'll walk into the living room and encounter this:



As Tim Gunn would say, "That's a lot of look."

You've got the shiny white space suit, so why not accent that with a great big pirate belt? And if that doesn't make enough of a statement, you'll want to throw in the skull necklace. And headband with attached Johnny Depp dreads. Plus, no need to worry about other kids making fun of you, 'cause you've got your trusty sword and a map to get out of there.

Last week, he went through a phase that lasted two days in which he wore an orange fishing vest over his regular clothes and insisted that he was Diego. I met him and Steve out for dinner and we had this conversation.

Jack: MOMMY!
Me: Hi, Cub. Hi, Roary.
Jack (in Roary voice): No, Dora. I'm still Baby Jaguar.
Me: Oh, of course you are.

Jack also told me on Friday that one of his friends at school insisted that he was Diego. The nerve! I asked Jack if maybe they could both be Diego. Jack gave me a look that was so weary, that so clearly conveyed, "Lady, if you think that, then I don't even know where to start with you." It was a look, in short, that I didn't expect to see for at least 9 years. Jack told me that he told his friend, basically, "Dude, I have the vest, so obviously you have no argument." He told the other kid that he could be Tico (since I was already Dora and Roary was already Baby Jaguar). He's nothing if not reasonable.

Tonight, I came home to this:


Jack is wearing the Batman shirt that my mom made for my brother when he was about four years old. She couldn't find the cape and hood that went with it, so she made him a new one - and then upped the ante of coolness by throwing in a cape for Roary so he can be Battiger.



Bad guys beware!

My Special Purpose

"My dear family, guess what. Today I found out what my special purpose is for. Gosh what a great time I had. I wish my whole family could have been here with me. Maybe some other time as I intend to do this a lot. Every chance I get."

--Navin R. Johnson (aka Steve Martin in The Jerk)

In these past few weeks of running, I feel like I have re-discovered My Special Purpose. The trisko* training is underway, and I have a direction and a focus that my running hasn't had in months. It feels like I'm going somewhere, even if I am just running on the damned treadmill.

Here's my new routine:
Monday: Weight training at the gym, yoga in the evening.
Tuesday: Short recovery run (3-5 miles)
Wednesday: Speed workouts! I will alternate quarters (aka 400 meter repeats) and tempo runs.
Thursday: Weight training and a 3 mile run
Firday: Rest
Saturday: Short runs of 3-5 miles, some at race pace, some slow.
Sunday: Long run

All of this will lead to my very first trisko on Mother's Day. And shortly after that? Time to ramp up training for my second marathon, at which I intend to PR. I intend to do this a lot. Maybe every chance I get.

*Half marathon to those of you not in the know.

Ooh La La

It's time for another Take it and Run Thursday. The theme is "If I Knew Then What I Know Now" and it totally makes me want to fire up my Rushmore soundtrack and listen to the song "Ooh La La" by The Faces.

I wish that I knew what I know now
When I was younger.
I wish that I knew what I know now
When I was stronger.

I'm happy to say that I haven't done anything too horribly foolish in my running. I mean, yeah, I would have finished the Des Moines marathon faster if I'd done more hill training. I was under the mistaken impression that there were maybe two hills in the first 7 miles of the course, while in fact there were probably only two little stretches that were flat. But my goal was to make it across the finish line, and I did that.

But the one mistake that I made when running was way back in 1989, and it still resonates with me so many years later.

The mistake?

I forgot to bring a sports bra with me to cross country practice, so I just wore my regular bra. I thought it'd be fine, and that it would keep the girls more or less in check. That it did - they really weren't going anywhere.

But, Internet? Oh, the chafing. The spot on my chest right between the girls was pretty well completely worn off, and I cannot tell you how much that hurt. It hurt anytime any article of clothing touched it, and any time I sweated, it would sting like crazy.

Suffice it to say, that is a mistake I will never, ever make again. I would rather run barefoot than without a sports bra.

(this post was totally sexy)

Spider-Man Loves Mary Jane

Jack (through his bedroom door): MARY JAAAANE! MARY JAAANE!
Me: What?
Jack: Mary Jane! Guess what? Green Goblin is in my room.
Me: Jack...
Jack: Don't forget, call me Spidey.
Me: Spidey, it's time to go to sleep, sweetie.
Jack: But Mary Jane, Green Goblin -
Me: Spidey, do you have your webs?
Jack: Yes.
Me: Is your spider-sense working?
Jack: Yes.
Me: Then I think you can handle this yourself. Web him up and go to sleep.
Jack: Okay, Mommy.
Me: That's Mary Jane.

I'd Rather Be Running

The theme for this week's Take It and Run Thursday is Strength and Flexibility.

And, um...

Sometimes, I tell Jack that he needs to eat some chicken nuggets before he eats more french fries. Jack likes chicken nuggets, sure. They're (relatively) good for him, yeah. But sometimes, they're just something to get through so he can get to the stuff he really wants, namely the fries.

For me, strength and flexibility are to chicken nuggets as french fries are to running. I acknoweldge that they're good for me and will make me a stronger runner, but the truth is, I pretty much just do them because I have to in order to excel at the running that I really care about.

Let's start with the strength training. My New Year's resolution this year was to take my running to the next level. Last year when my running renaissance began, I was happy just to be putting in the miles. This year, I am adding strength training back in to make me stronger - and to hopefully keep my knee injury from cropping up again. I'll lift 1-2 times a week on easy running days. Much like taking my vitamins every day, I'll do it, and I won't complain about it, but I'm not going to get excited about it, either.

Flexibility?

Bwahahahaha!

My body? Does not bend.

I do stretch after every run. It's another example of taking my vitamins. I know it's good for me, and I know it will help prevent injuries. And I figure since I've already put in, at minimum, half an hour running, I might as well spend another five or ten minutes stretching. But Internet, it is not a pretty sight.

Remember when we had to do the Presidential Physical Fitness tests in school? I always did a respectable number of sit-ups. Managed to hang well for the flexed arm hang. Completely rocked out the running tests.

But then, there was the sit and reach test. You'd sit on your butt with your legs straight out in front of you and reach as far as you could.

Every single time, the tester would say, "Okay, go ahead and start," only to discover that I had already started, and was, in fact, struggling.

Also, I cannot touch my toes. Not even close.

I'm following Hal Higdon's Intermediate program for my Trisko training, and he designates Mondays as a Stretch & Strengthen day. I'll pretty much do whatever Hal tells me to do at this point, so I have designated Monday as Yoga Day. I even have a yoga DVD called - I kid you not - Yoga for Inflexible People.

I had my first Yoga Day this week, and it was pretty much the most pathetic thing you ever saw. For one thing, as I mentioned, I do not bend, so it really didn't look like much.

Even more amusingly, the DVD, of course, was a model of tranquility. Gentle music, lots of talk about breathing, blah, blah, blah. I was about the least tranquil thing you ever saw. Put aside the fact that I was red-faced and straining. Instead, consider the fact that I had to pause the catlicking thing three times to put Jack back to bed. I was not a model of peace and calm; I was a model of, "Sweetheart, if you don't go the hell to sleep, I don't know what I am going to do."

Still, you can't just eat french fries all the time. Sometimes, you need to eat some chicken nuggets in order to keep balance in your life.

Of course, it is possible that I have stretched this metaphor far more than I can stretch my body.

Ice, Ice Baby

Internet? I am officially sick and tired of winter. Enough already. The snow, it is pretty. But I could realy do without the ice that covers every surface, effectively screwing up my plans for most things.

I officially started my trisko training this week. I don't mind running in the cold, and I don't care if there's snow on the ground. But ice is a problem. By the time I get out to run, it's dark, and if I can't see the ground, it's just too risky that I'll slip and fall.

So, yesterday, i did something that I really didn't want to do: I ran indoors on a treadmill.

Sweet Yoda, it was boring.

I only ran 3 miles, which under normal circumstances is easy-breezy. Done in no time. On the treadmill, even at my usual pace, it took for-freaking-ever. Not even the combination between my iPod and a trashy MTV show on TV could distract me from the pointless boringness of what I was doing. And there is no sign of any thaw any time soon, so I am going to be stuck doing this for the foreseeable future. BLECH.

In general, I am out of sorts. I'm over the flu, but my cough lingers, so I often find myself wheezing or hacking up a lung. And now Jack is sick, which has not diminished his energy level, but has increased his whininess and neediness. He also cannot manage to stay asleep all night, so he'll come dragging into MommyDaddy room to tell me that he wants a drink of water - from the glass that he walked past in order to find me and give me this news. Or, even more pathetically, "Mommy, will you sleep with me?" Apparently, just having me on the floor next to his bed was comforting enough for him to go back to sleep, the poor little guy.

Really, this entire post is about me complaining.

Making the Miles Fly

This week for .Take It and Run Thursday, the topic is music and podcasts. I generally listen to music while I'm running and have been known to completely rock out to my Power Song, which is "All These Things That I've Done" by The Killers. I am not ashamed to admit that when I was training for my first marathon last year, I had a vivid mental image of myself racing to the finish line with cheering crowds on either side of me that synched up perfectly with that song.

But for long runs, the absolute best bang for my buck is downloads of This American Life from iTunes.

Each episode is about an hour long and costs 99 cents. That is a freaking bargain. And the stories are funny. Or sad. Or poignant. And the next thing you know, an hour has passed and it's time to listen to another one.

I know there are places where you can download a playlist with songs of a certain number of beats per minute designed to optimize your stride and make you run faster. But, um, I am not fast enough for that to matter. The dulcent tones of Ira Glass are enough to keep me going.

Wonders Never Cease

First of all, Internet, thank you for all your kind get well wishes. Whoever said you were good for nothing but porn? Not me.

Yesterday was full of miraculous happenings at Stately Wasser Manor. Jack and I went to the card store to get valentines for Steve. While we were there, Jack said, "Mommy, do they have a potty here?" I told him that they did not, and he loudly announced that he needed to "go poopy," instantly making me think of Vickie Iovine's promise that if your kids don't embarass you on a regular basis, you are not getting your money's worht out of parenthood.

I told him that we'd need to go home (only two minutes away), and asked him to PLEASE wait until we got there. Believe it or not, it worked. He actually held it, just like a grown human. I rewarded him with a giant pile of Junior Mints.

I've been hesitant to say it, afraid to jinx myself, but I think the kid has pretty well figured out this potty training thing. He cannot yet be trusted to remember on his own to go to the bathroom, but with prompting, the accidents are extremely rare. Like, two in a month rare. And 3-4 mornings a week, he wakes up dry. Crazy!

And here's an even bigger shock. Last night, we were eating dinner, and Jack said, "I yike salad." And then he allowed me to put a lettuce leaf on his plate. And then he picked up the lettuce leaf. And then he ATE the lettuce leaf. Steve and I nearly died of shock. Jack told me that his teacher, Miss Julie, convinced him to try salad. The next time I see her, I am giving that woman a big hug.

Death's Door

Internet, I have been sick.

Really, really sick, with the flu. I can't remember the last time I have been so sick. If I watched TV for more than an hour, the effort of holding my body upright was such that I had to take a nap. At night, I couldn't sleep, between coughing and having weird fever dreams. When I went to the doctor, the nurse offered to give me my B-12 shot, and I declined, the prospect of putting all my weight on one foot for 20 seconds while she gave me the shot too exhausting.

Today, I am kind of back with the living. I'm going to work for a partial day. Today marks the first time I have left the house since my doctor's appointment on Friday. The first day since Thursday I have worn pants other than sweatpants and have put on a pair of shoes.

Steve's main way of helping me feel better has been to take over with Jack completely so that he didn't bug me and so that I wouldn't feel compelled to help him. It was the perfect thing to do.

As for Jack, he has called to check on me from Grandma's house. And yesterday before he left, he brought me about 12 different stuffed animals, some to keep me company, others to keep each other company. He has also been extremely understanding of the fact that I have yet to take him to see the Princess Giselle movie as promised.

I am completely bored with being sick and am hoping to be back to normal soon.

Half Some Respect

The topic for this week's Take It and Run Thursday is the half marathon. This is a subject that is near and dear to my heart because in about a week, I am going to start officially training for my first half marathon, the Quad Cities Distance Classic.

A half marathon is the only standard distance that I have never raced. I'm excited about it, because I think it'll be a fun distance to race. 13.1 miles is a long way to go, so it will be challenging, but it's a lot more manageable than a full marathon. I am going to train hard for it, but because the mileage is less, I just won't have to put in as much time.

There's just one problem with the half marathon: the name.

There is no other race that is defined by it's relationship to some other race. A 5K isn't a Half 10K, for crying out loud. Calling the distance a half marathon makes it seem like something less important, less challenging than it is.

I have several friends who've run half marathons. Here are some of the reactions they've gotten:

• Oh, so you didn't want to run a whole marathon?



• Just a half?



• So, when are you going to run the other half of your marathon?

Granted these people are not runners, but rather the same people who say things like "I never run unless someone's chasing me" and expect you to laugh like they are the first person ever to come up with that little gem. Runners respect the half, and the unique challenges it poses.

Still...

In the movie Spirit of the Marathon, one of the runners jokingly says that he runs marathons for the t-shirt. There is some truth to that, honestly. We don't wear our race t-shirts just to cover our bodies. We wear them so that people will look at them and say, "Wow, she's a runner. That's bad-ass." A half marathon runner, someone who hauls themselves 13.1 miles, deserves that same kind of respect and awe.

So, what can we call a half marathon that will make non-runners give halfers the respect they deserve? Triskaidekaphobia is the fear of the number thireen. How about we rename the half the Trisko? Now that's a race to be feared - and respected.

Pop-Up Blocker

Here at Stately Wasser Manor, we have been having huge problems with pop-ups. No, not the annoying kind you find on the internet. Worse. These pop-ups occur when we tuck Jack into bed, only to have him pop up eighty bazillion times over the course of two hours.

It is maddening. For one thing, by the time I put that wee maniac to bed, chances are, I'm ready for a break. Or, I've got stuff that I need to do that is hampered by having to return him to bed over and over again. And the kid needs his sleep, so spending two hours fighting it is not helping things.

I've tried the "stick" approach to discipline - taking away stuff he likes if he gets out of bed. But even the threat (carried out) of taking away his Buzz Lightyear costume for a day could not keep him in bed. He explained, "I just want to talk to Mommy." Thanks, but no thanks.

Then, I decided to see if he was old enough to be motivated by the old standby, the sticker chart. Jack and I worked together to draw a chart, using his current favorite color of blue. For each night that he stays in his bed, he gets a sticker - princess stickers, since that's what I had handy. After he gets five stickers, he gets a treat. The treat he chose was to go to the movies to see Enchanted with me.

I cannot believe how well it worked. Every morning, he'll come find me, proudly asking for his sticker, and we'll put it up together. He immediately went five days in a row with no pop-ups whatsoever. We're making plans for a Saturday Princess Giselle outing, and have already made his new chart. This time, Jack will earn his very own copy of The Wizard of Oz.

Best of all, he feels a real sense of accomplishment. He is truly proud of doing so well.

Mail Slot Details

I had a feeling my adventures in the mail slot would garner some interest. According to my mom, the dimensions of the mail slot are 14 x 11.5 inches.



It is also probably about a four foot drop from the mail slot to the floor, so I'm happy I didn't have to take that face first.

Update: Here's me and the mail slot.

Saving the Family

It was a weekend of adventures at Stately Wasser Manor.

Saturday morning, I took off to get my hair cut and colored while the boys planned a fun daddy-son morning. I had my phone turned off, so I was not aware of the fact that Steve had locked the two of them out of the house. Once Steve realized that I was not going to answer my phone, he started hunting around for solutions.

He got the ladder out of the garage, climbed it, and removed the screen from a window in the dining room. He gave Jack some instructions, carried him up the ladder, and slowly lowered him into the house. Jack realized the gravity of his assignment and therefore did not take advatanage of this as an opportunity to watch TV and eat cookies, but rather raced over to the back door and let Steve in the house. Steve told Jack that he "saved the family."

And on a plus note, my hair looks great.

That night, I went over to my mom and Doug's house to take care of the cats, mail, and empty some bucket that has to do with water runoff from the furnace. Important stuff. Unfortunately, their lock is tricky, and no matter what I tried with the catlicking key, I could not make it even budge. Meanwhile, Fannie May, one of the cats, was looking at me through the window and crying.

It was time, once again, to save the family. But how could I get into the house?

Nancy and Doug have a large mail slot - bigger than a letter, I assure you. I discovered that if I took off my coat (to reduce bulk) and put my hands over my shoulders to make them narrower, I could probably fit. Nevertheless, I had my cell phone in my hand in case I got stuck like Pooh. I shoved myself into the house and even figured out a way to contort my body so I didn't have to take the four foot drop face first. The cats were fed, the bucket was empty, and the family was saved!

Plus I have bruises on my abdomen as a badge of honor.

Sunday, I decided to run over to their house to feed the cats, then run home to combine tasks. It was lightly snowing when I left - it was lovely. By the time I started back home it was snowing, um, cats and dogs. The snow was blowing into my face from both directions, and there was so much of it that I couldn't see far in front of me.

Still, I got in five miles without Paula beeping at me to speed up. And this is what I looked like when I got back:



How many toughness points do I earn for that one?

Sailing the Seven Seas to the Dairy Aisle

Because, again, if you have a Captain Jack Sparrow costume, why wouldn't you wear it to the grocery store?

Because You Demanded It

Here is the famous Stormtrooper The Lizard in all his glory.



The thing actually turned out better than I thought it would.

Commuter Cam

My friend Tyler recently issued the challenge for people to photograph, then blog their commutes. Fun, right? Liana was up for it, too. So, with that, here's how I get to work.

The start is always the same - here's the driveway leading away from Stately Wasser Manor.

And here's my street.


I pass this new store called Gameology. It's where you can hang out late into the night pounding Red Bull and playing Halo or whatever. I am semi-terrified of it.


This is a crappy picture, but I had to post it anyway. It's of a tattoo parlor, and 90% of the time, there are heavily tatted guys hanging out in front smoking. The tattoo parlor is almost exactly one mile away from my house, so I always feel excited when I get to it out running. I feel a connection to it.


These are some of the dorms at Augustana College, where Steve works.


Then I pass a train yard.


This bridge is called the Government Bridge (or something like that) and it goes to Arsenal Island, as well as over the Mississippi into Iowa, where I work. I was too chicken to take pictures of the outposts at the Arsenal because I didn't want to look suspicious.


The bridge is about a thousand years old. I've run across it before. The surface of it is a grate. You know that creepy feeling you get when you walk over a subway grate, like you can imagine plummeting down into the Morlock tunnels? I had that feeling the entire time I ran across it. It even seems to shake. And if you look down, you can actually see the river. It is terrifying.


Welcome to Iowa! Check out this skeevy pawn shop...


Located right near a really cool arts center.



That's my parking garage, and that clock tower is part of my building.

The view from the walkway to my office is really cool. You can see the Figge Art Museum...


And the River Music Experience building, which is also home of Mojo's, where you can get the finest chocolate chip cookies in all of downtown Davenport... provided you get there before they sell out.


And we made it! There's my desk!


Now, on other days, my commute is slightly different. The next day, I had a partner.


We pass Dr. Gyros, where Steve and I occasionally have prescriptions filled for deliciousness


And Whitey's Ice Cream. Mmm, Whitey's.


Jack is safely dropped off at school


and my drive continues. This is Rock Island High School, and I remember running track meets right here.


From there, I get on the Centennial Bridge, which is much prettier than the Government Bridge. I've run across this one, too, because it's cool to think I can hit two states on a run.


That day I took a different route home because I had a meeting. I was happy to get a shot of this building, The Stripping Solution. It's like the answer to the I'm A Single Mom And I Just Want To Make My Way Through College Problem.


Here's yet another bridge across the Mississippi. I'll run over it when I do the Quad Cities Marathon in September.


So, that's how I get to and from work. There's plenty to look at, and it's even nicer when it's not ass-cold out.

Motivation

There are a million things that motivate me to go running, from my love of homemade cookies, to the thrill of accomplishing a goal, to the excitement right before a race, to the health benefits, down to the smell of wet sidewalks on a rainy day. But for today’s Take It and Run Thursday, I’m going to talk about just one thing that motivates me. Okay, two.




I have the greatest cheerleaders in the world.

Steve and Jack have been incredibly supportive of my running. When Jack sees me put on my shoes, he understands what I’m about to do, and says, “Have a good run, Mommy.” If we’re in the car and pass a runner, he’ll say, “That lady is running, just like Mommy.” He will even run laps around the yard so that he can be a runner like me.

There are so many things that he does that make me proud. To think that I do something that makes him proud is just an amazing feeling. I love the fact that I’m setting a good example for him – setting goals, creating challenges for myself, and making exercise a priority. And there is nothing like coming home from a run and having him give me a high five and ask if I had a good run.

As for Steve, not once has he complained about my spending an entire Saturday morning on a training run. He understands why I spent $400 on running shoes last year and why our pantry is now cluttered with Gatorade and Gu. Every once in a while, Steve will point out that it’s been a while since I’ve downloaded any new songs and suggests that I get something new for my running mix. He supported me when, on vacation, I took the time to do a ten mile run. Steve will work into conversation with friends that I am training for a marathon, or that I just ran 18 miles, or that I just finished a really cool race – he’s like my publicist, bragging about my accomplishments so I don’t have to! Most importantly, not once has he ever echoed the little voices in my head that say, “You know, it’s kind of hot out today. Maybe instead of running you could sit inside and eat ice cream.”

One of the happiest moments of my life was when I saw the two of them half a mile away from the finish line of my first marathon. Steve was holding up Jack, and the two of them were cheering for me like crazy. It made it easy to give that final kick and finish the race strong, and with a smile on my face.

On a day when I don’t quite feel like going for a run, I will think of the two of them. I’ll think about how many times they’ve smiled and kissed me goodbye before I went out by myself. I’ll think about the signs that they made for me at the marathon. I’ll think about how they tell me I look pretty when I come home bathed in sweat.

It makes me want to show them my appreciation by moving forward, by not quitting, and by being the runner that makes the two of them proud. Better still, I know that my running has helped me immensely to better manage stress, keep my temper, and be a better wife and mother to the two of them. So, I put on my shoes and I go out for a run. For my guys.

Spirit of the Marathon

Yesterday was like an unofficial holiday for runners. Last night - and last night only - was the showing of Spirit of the Marathon in theaters.



Spirit is a documentary that follows six runners of varying abilities (from a Kenyan to bronze medalist Deena Castor to a guy trying to qualify for the Boston Marathon to first time runners to a guy in his 60s) through their training and the race.

I knew I was in for a good time when I parked my car and saw that I was surrounded by other cars with 26.2 stickers on them. The theater was packed with people wearing race t-shirts and running sneakers, making up a nearly sold-out crowd.

It was a really fun setting to be in, as the audience would geek out about interviews with Frank Shorter, Joan Benoit-Samuelson, and John Bingham. I was, of course, excited to see my girl Paula Radcliffe.

The stories were really compelling, and the whole thing was totally inspiring. I wanted to go out for a run right away (though the fact that it was after 10:00 and under 15 degrees below stopped me), and I have to admit that when I got home, I went on the internet to see if there's a way I can run two marathons this year instead of just one (looks like not).

Take It and Run Thursday – Basics of Running

Amy at Runner's Lounge has started the fun event called Take It and Run Thursday, in which blogging runners all post about a similar topic, put their heads together, and come up with brilliance. Cool, huh? The first topic is Basics of Running.

If I were to give just one piece of basic advice to aspiring runners, it would be this:

Don’t be intimidated.

So many of the fears I’ve heard from my friends who are starting running boil down to them being intimidated by their lack of experience. They don’t want to look or feel foolish. There is truly no need to be concerned. Runners are among the kindest, most supportive people I have ever met. Nobody is going to laugh at you for being slow, for asking dumb questions, or for not finishing first.

Let’s look at a few places where a novice runner might feel intimidated, and I can promise you, your fears are unfounded.

The very first thing you need when you start running is a good pair of shoes. The best place to go to get those shoes is a store that is dedicated to running. That is where you will be able to get the personalized attention and service you need to get the best pair of shoes for you. Does the idea of that scare you? It shouldn’t. Don’t be intimidated. The staff at those running stores are used to dealing with runners of all levels. And let me tell you, they will be so happy that you’ve chosen to spend your money at their store, and not at Dick’s, that they will give you fantastic service. Don’t be intimidated – go to a running store and get a great pair of shoes.

I know some people who have wanted to start running, but are afraid to leave the confines of the treadmill at the gym. They’re afraid that they’ll look pathetic out there on the street, chugging along too slowly. Don’t be intimidated. The other runners who see you think, “Hey there, fellow runner!” and are just happy to see a comrade. The people driving past you on the streets will either think, “Hey, good for her,” or “Man, I should really do that.” Not one single person will think poorly of you.

Once you start running on a regular basis, you’ll be tempted to enter a race. After all, free t-shirt! But maybe you’re afraid of how you’ll look. After all, what if you come in dead last? What if you’re way, way at the back of the pack? Again, don’t be intimidated. One of the things that makes running unique as a sport is that people can compete in different levels in perfect harmony. When I ran the Bix 7 last year, I finished with a time of 1:10:13. Wude Ayalew , the women’s winner, finished with a time of 36:57. Obviously, she is in a different league than I am, and yet, she and I ran the very same race. That’s like a person who enjoys shooting hoops in their driveway playing a game of basketball with Michael Jordan. Even better, an elite runner and I can both be challenged in a race like that, on our own levels. There’s room for success at any level – even for beginners – so long as you’re not intimidated.

To the Produce Aisle... And Beyond!

Because if you have a Buzz Lightyear costume, why wouldn't you wear it to the grocery store?

Toughness Points

The battle to earn Toughness Points is becoming more difficult. Last weekend, the weather was repeatedly described as "dangerously cold." Or, to put it another way, "Your tauntaun will freeze to death before you reach the first marker." So, no running for me this weekend.

Toughness Points Accrued: 0

Instead, I spent a good portion of the day on Sunday watching Charlotte's Web, also known as Piggy-Spider on the couch with Jack. We snuggled up, and it was delightful. Not so delightful was that I fell asleep with my neck in a very awkward position. I woke up yesterday morning with my neck completely screwed up. It is to the point where instead of turning my head, which hurts so much I feel like throwing up, I pivot from the waist like Batman.

It is very frustrating to know that I can do strong and athletic things, like run a marathon, but that falling asleep on the couch can utterly destroy me.

Toughness Points Accured: -2

So yesterday, I got home from work in a foul mood. Every single thing I did all day long was accompanied by the discomfort of the neck. My head seemed like too weighty of a burden for my poor neck to hold up. It just sucked all around. And it was snowing.

But I went running anyway.

Shoveling the snow and making my neck and shoulder go through that effort was out of the question. But I figured if it would hurt for me to simply walk upright, I might as well be uncomfortable and be running. And I was glad I did. At least I was able to concentrate on something else. At least I was able to enjoy my iPod and the feeling of the snow on my face.

Toughness Points Accrued: 2

It all balances out.

Hey, Hey, Paula

The Garmin has arrived, babies!

It has become increasingly obvious that it was silly for me to think I could live without it. There is just so much gadgety fun and number-based nerdiness to be had, you know? I have gone on two runs with the Garmin, and I feel fondly enough towards it that it seems silly to refer to it as The Garmin.

So, as of yesterday's run, it - nay, SHE - has been renamed Paula, after the kickass runner Ms. Paula Radcliffe.

Paula's got some bells and whistles I still need to figure out, but she's pretty easy to run with.

The thing that's not so easy with the running right now is that it is really catlicking cold outside right now. Yesterday it was 16 degrees out - without windchill - and my running outfit could best be described as Bank Robber. I wore:

Long sleeved tech-shirt
Sweatshirt
Windbreaker
Sexy reflective vest
Long underwear in tech fabric
Fleece UnderArmour pants
Usual running socks, though I DESPERATELY wish I could get a pair of running socks that are knee-high, preferably striped.
Hat
Survivor buff, worn around my face, covering me from my eyes down, and pulled up in the back to connect with my hat.

The buff got a bit wet from my breathing through it, and towards the end of the run, I yanked it down. By the time I got home, it had frozen.

This, my friends, is the kind of run that Amy at Runner's Lounge says builds your Tough Guy points. I love the fact that my iPod played "Fighter" as I got started.

Family Reunion

At Barnes & Noble today, we discovered two more Roaries in the children's section. Jack, of course, had Roary with him and immediately decided that they were Roary's MommyDaddy. Roary and his parents were delighted to see each other and spent a lot of time hugging, then crowding into my lap to hear stories. They had a lovely visit, then said goodbye so we could go home. Later, we had this conversation.

Roary (Jack speaking): I miss my MommyDaddy.
Me: I understand, Roary. But Jack needs you, and you are a very important part of this family.
Jack: Yeah, Roary. I need you.

As if Jack was not the one who brought up the subject of Roary missing his parents. Ah, the complicated emotional life of a boy and his stuffed tiger. Someone should write a comic strip about it.

Knees

Good news! My knee problem is nothing serious. I went to see my regular doctor, who spent about ten minutes looking at my knee and came up with the assesment of "Dunno," and referred me to a specialist.

The osteopath ordered x-rays and examined my knee. No damage to the bones or tendons, and the space between the bones was “perfect.” He diagnosed it as chondromalacia patellae, which is a pain under the kneecap. The underside of my kneecap is not as smooth as it would be in an uninjured one, and that is what is causing the discomfort. He gave me a “return to running after injury” program to follow and said that, given my level of fitness, I should start with week 3, rather than week 1. He also gave me a handout of weight training to incorporate into my workouts once I’m back up to speed. This will strengthen the muscles and hopefully prevent a recurrence.

I had my first "return to running" workout last night. I ran 15 minutes at a snail's pace (around 12 minute miles), and it felt really strange to be going so slowly, but hey, better that than hurting myself. After that, it was 20 minutes at a "medium" pace, which I had as 10 minute miles. I am happy to report that when I was done, I only felt mild discomfort in the knee, which was gone by the time I went to bed. Yay!

One of the most delightful aspects of my appointment was that the doctor kept referring to my excellent muscles and skeletal structure, my strong conditioning, and referring to me as a strong athlete. That was really flattering.

Creativity

Kids Jack's age are among the most creative, imaginitive people on Earth. Isn't it sad the way we systematically kill it by trying to tell them what's "right"? Two recent examples come to mind.

Jack and I were at Festival of Trees, enjoying the kids' craft area. Jack was making an ornament by stringing beads onto a pipe cleaner, which were then twisted into a circle. The sample the lady showed alternated red and green beads, but naturally Jack had no interest in doing that. He put the beads on however he felt like it, and I saw absolutely no reason to stop him. The craft lady commented that he was the first kid she'd seen who didn't follow the pattern.

I thought that was so sad.

Either Jack is the only kid out there who dared to do anything different or - more likely - the kids who did try to do something different had parents who told them they were doing it wrong or said, "Honey, wouldn't it look pretty if you did red-green-red-green?" And frankly, no, it would not look prettier. It would look like something that I could do, and that would bring me no joy when I saw it hanging on the tree.

Then, a few weeks ago, I took Jack to a paint-your-own pottery place. He selected a lizard figurine, and I got paints while he checked out the play area. The woman who gave me the paints told me that there were different widths of brushes, if I was interested. I laughed and said that wasn't really necessary - the kid making the lizard was only three years old and wasn't about to get fancy with different brush widths.

She smiled at me conspiratorially and said, "Oh, I know, it's hard. You want to let them be creative, but..."

But nothing. The lizard was certainly never supposed to be my artistic creation. If it were, for one thing, it would not have been a lizard. But second, what do I care if he paints it some weird way? The most important thing was for us to all have fun, with a second consideration being for Jack to create something that he was proud of. Him creating a showpiece lizard for me to display was never in the cards. Frankly, it was not at all hard to watch as Jack slapped random colors onto his lizard. Nor was it hard to allow him to name it "Stormtrooper The Lizard."

Jack has also been expressing this creativity a lot in the way he dresses. Yesterday, he decided to pretend to be Prince Charming. So, he added his Santa jacket and a khaki bucket hat to his regular clothes. As you do, apparently. Steve and I had to laugh over the fact that he was going for Prince Charming, but between the crazy getup and the black eye, he looked like a punched lunatic.

Today was even more awesome. I dressed Jack in an outfit that Steve's parents got him - Mickey Mouse t-shirt, with a matching hooded vest. Picture a hooded sweatshirt with the sleeves cut off. Jack zipped the vest all the way up, then added my red headband, which he wore Olivia Newton-John style around his head. He looked like an extra from Breakin' 2: Electric Boogaloo. And it was awesome.

Jack's teachers, Miss Missy (unfortunate) was delighted with today's ensemble. As soon as Jack walked in and she spotted the headband she said, "Oh, what are you today? I can't wait to see!" The fact that she takes such obvious joy in the satorical decisions of a three-year old boy makes it clear to me that she is absolutely the right kind of teacher for Jack.

Even if he is a punched lunatic.

Betsy Lessons of the Week

During the many seasons I recapped The Apprentice, one of the most popular features of my articles was something I originally intended just to make fun of Donald Trump. Every week, he'd have some dumbass words of wisdom, which I dubbed the Trump Lesson of the Week. Usually, they were really obvious, like, "Crush the Competition." I would dutifully recount these, then would offer the Betsy Lesson of the Week. They'd be words of wisdom, such as to keep important tickets in your underwear drawer so you'd know where to find them when you were looking for them. My readers loved them.

My past couple of posts have gotten some nice comments (hello, lovely people), including a marriage proposal from Nancy. They also seem to be begging for Betsy Lessons of the Week, so here are a few for you all.

Reindeer Sandwiches: Cheryl asked how to make reindeer sandwiches. They could not be easier. You make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich (or any kind of sandwich, on the theory that maybe your kid recognizes more than one kind of sandwich, unlike mine. Then, you cut it into triangles, which I think we all know is the way that sandwiches taste best. Arrange them on the plate so that the crust is at the top and the bottom points down. Stick two pretzel rods in the top for antlers. Make eyes and noses with raisins. If you're feeling fancy, use a teeny bit of honey to make the raisins stick. Extra Cool Mommy Points if you use a red M&M (the mini ones are best) to make one of the reindeer Rudolph.

The Dishes: The part of the house that gets the biggest, most challenging mess is definitely the kitchen. I mean, every other room, really, all you have to do is put stuff away, and that's not so hard. But the kitchen, you've got to actually clean things. And it's a neverending battle-fight (as Jack would say) because the dirty dishes just keep on coming. I have found that it is absolutely essential to stay on top of them. If there is a dishwasher full of clean dishes, that means that all of the dirty dishes stack up in the sink, which means that I can't really use the sink, and that when I do empty the dishwisher, I have to spend too much time filling it again, and I have to run it again right away, and... ACK! So, as soon as that bitch is full, I run it. And as soon as the cycle is done, it gets emptied. It makes a HUGE difference in my life.

It should be noted, by the way, that I can be really anal about certain things. This being one of them.

Broke Down

Jack is sporting one wicked black eye. We were at the play area at the mall and he conked heads with a little kid about half his age and a head shorter than he is. The other kid was unharmed; Jack now looks like the dog from The Little Rascals. I only wish the photo did justice to the completely badass shiner that the kid is now sporting. It is amazing. I think he realizes that it looks cool, because he is perfectly willing to laugh at the fact that he got beat up by a baby.

In other news...

- Jack voluntarily ate two green beans last night. We are in shock. I was pretty sure he would never eat anything green unless it had an M on it.

- It has been freakishly warm here. All of the pretty snow has melted, and I've gone running IN SHORTS for the past couple of days. Huzzah! But also weird. My man Al Gore is silently weeping over the whole thing, I'm sure.

- I broke down and went to the doctor about my lingering (since, oh, November) knee problem. Every time I go running, my right knee hurts for a day or so. The doctor spent about ten minutes looking at it and said, basically, "Got me. Go see a specialist," so that's what I'm doing tomorrow morning. Of course, after the knee got some attention, it didn't bother me nearly as much during last night's run. Wouldn't it be great if this problem just solved itself?

- We've had a good run together, but it looks like my Nike + is dying. The sensor battery is low, and my friend the Internet tells me that they can't be replaced - I'd have to buy a new kit. Um, is it bad that I am seeing this as an opportunity not to buy a new $30 sensor kit, but rather to spring for a Garmin? Yes, there's a teeny price difference between the two, but I am pretty sure the Garmin will even do my laundry for me. I can't wait to get it in the mail.

House Meme

I can't resist a good meme, and Daisy Boneshas one today. It's all about houses, you guys.

1. When you walk in your front door, which room do you enter?
There's a nice sized foyer at the front of the house. Turn left for the family room, right for the dining room.

2. Do you have a dishwasher?
Of course.

3. Is your living room carpeted or does it have hardwood floor?
There is a sort of oatmeal-colored carpet that covers the living room and most of the first floor. The kitchen is a very pretty Pergo, and the upstairs is all hardwoods.

4. Do you keep your kitchen knives on the counter or in a drawer?
We have a block of knives on the counter, plus a magnet holding more one the wall. Keeping knives in a drawer would be asking for trouble with Jack!

5. House, apartment, duplex or trailer?
House. Or, if you prefer, a Stately Manor.

6. How many bedrooms is it?
Four. Steve's and my room, Jack's room, a guest room, and the office. I am so glad to have a seperate office. In Previous Stately Wasser Manor, we had the office in the front room of the house, which afforded no privacy for Steve when he was writing.

7. Gas stove or electric?
Gas.

8. How big is the yard?
Big. I love it so much. Will love it even more when we build a deck.

9. What size TV is in the living room?
Freaking huge. It's 36" and weighs a million pounds.

10. Are your plates in the same cupboard as your cups?
No, we have a really fun mishmash of coffee mugs.

11. Is there a coffee maker sitting on your kitchen counter?
Of course there is. Otherwise I might die.

12. What color is your home painted?
White with black shutters. I would like to repaint the shutters green some day.

13. What room is your computer in?
The office. This is one of the few rooms that Steve and I painted. Three of the walls are a rich chocolate brown, with an accent wall in light blue. It is so pretty, you guys.

14. Are there pictures hanging in your living room?
Of course there are. We have some coffee-related pictures hanging over our lovely orange chenille couch. And the Family Wall is pretty much what you'd expect - a big grouping of pictures of our family.

15.) Are there any themes found in your home?
Our family room is decorated with movie posters - the original Star Wars trilogy, plus movie posters for Jack in his play area - Shrek, Toy Story, Cars, and Spider-Man. Jack's room has the dual themes of Elmo and Star Wars. We hung up a bunch of autographed Star Wars pictures in his room and it looks awesome. Oh, and the guest room is very beachy looking.

16. What kind of laundry detergent do you use?
Cheer, in a big-ass box from Sam's.

17. Do you use dryer sheets?
I don't, because I think they're unneccesary and not at all green. Plus bad for performance fabrics. But Steve uses them.

18. Do you have any curtains in your home?
Brown faux suede curtains in our bedroom, blue ones in Jack's room, and white ones in the guest room. I'd like to get something to add a shot of color to the dining room, maybe a rich orange.

19. What color is your fridge?
Stainless steel.

20. Is your house clean?
Yes, and will be even more so after the cleaning ladies come tomorrow.

21. What room is the most neglected?
The finished part of our basement. We don't use it for anything.

22. Are the dishes in your sink/dishwasher clean or dirty?
It is my mission in life to always have the dishwasher emptied. Too many dishes pile up, and it's chaotic, plus I then have to stop and empty, then fill the dishwasher before I can work in the kitchen. Things are now as they should be - no dishes in the sink, a few dirty dishes in the dishwasher.

23. How long have you lived in your home?
Since July 2, 2007.

24. Where did you live before?
Temporary Wasser Manor, aka my mom's house.

25. Do you have one of those fluffy toilet lid covers on your toilet?
Those gross me out.

26. Do you have a scale anywhere in your home?
Yes, in the closet in the guest room.

27. How many mirrors are in your house?
Three? One in each bathroom, plus a full-length mirror in the bedroom. We had tons of decorative mirrors in Previous Stately Wasser Manor.

28. Look up. What do you see?
Ceilings with that swirly texture to them.

29. Do you have a garage?
No way would I live in the midwest without a two-car garage.

30. Are you planning on moving anytime soon?
No, and possibly never again.

Hackin' Jack

These past few days at Stately Wasser Manor have been tough. Jack woke up at the hideous hour of 4:45 in the morning on Sunday coughing so hard that he was wheezing. It was really scary; Steve thought he might be choking and I thought it might be an asthma attack. Eventually, it calmed down, but at that point there was no getting Jack back to sleep. Steve took him downstairs and told me to take the first shift of sleeping.

It's not easy to fall right back asleep after something like that, but eventually I did. Unfortunately, I think I'd just hit REM sleep when Steve woke me up and asked me to take over. I stumbled downstairs, groggy and bleary-eyed. Jack was watching Dora, and I was even more confused. Dora put Boots in charge of a party and went off with... Swiper? Swiper was helping Dora travel around the world, even preventing different countries' versions of himself from swiping friendship bracelets? Huh? And how did Swiper learn the "Come on, vamonos" song? Several cups of coffee later, I verified that I was not halucinating, but it was a bit touch and go for a while there.

I took Jack to the doctor on Monday - a walk-in clinic at his doctor's office since it was New Year's Eve, so he didn't see his usual doctor. This guy's name was Dr. Schott, which is awesome. Really if your last name is Schott, you should either be a pediatrician or open a bar. Honestly, he should do both. Dr. Schott would be an awesome name for a bar.

I told Dr. Schott about Jack's cough, and Jack, who was pretending to be Spider-Man at the moment, showed the doctor a boo-boo and claimed that it was the bite of a radioactive spider. He told Jack that he'd soon be able to crawl walls... and told me that he had Croup. Jack's treatment for the spider bite, I assume, is to remember that with great power comes great responsibility. For the croup, he prescribed a sterroid to lessen the swelling of his throat.

I went to Target to fill the prescription/see if they had any cute new clothes. Feeling like quite the responsible mom, I asked the pharmacist if there were any side effects I should be aware of. She told me that it would probably make him "jittery." Lovely. Really, every three-year-old needs something to make him especially hyper.

And the stuff definitely makes him nutty. Later that night, he was bouncing off the walls, so determined to destroy something that I gave him a catalog and asked him to rip it up so that I could get just a little bit of work done in the kitchen. Then I blasted my Jack playlist on my iPod and made him dance to burn some of that energy off. Napping is out of the question, and it's hard for him to fall asleep at night, between the coughing and the drug-induced crazy.

The good news is that he slept very well last night - from 7:30 PM to 7:00 AM. And he's only on the meds until Friday. I hope my little guy's cough gets better soon... for all our sakes.

Snowflakes That Stay on My Nose and Eyelashes

Yesterday, I read an article in Runner's World about cold weather running. There was a quote about how running during a light snow is one of the most peaceful things you can experience. It sounded lovely, and I immediately wanted a chance to do it.

Nature, amazingly, cooperated... kind of.

Steve had to work for a few hours today and I had the day off, so I spent an active and fun - but tiring - morning with Jack. I'd already declared that when Steve got home, I was going running. So imagine my excitement when I saw it starting to snow mid-morning.

The trouble was, it was not a LIGHT snow. It was snowing like, um, cats and dogs. Still, I geared up and went. And it was really cool. I only did 2-1/2 miles because it was rough running on uneven terrain and because I knew I'd need to shovel the driveway afterwards. But it really did have a magic to it. It's nice to look at snow not just as something that's a pain in the butt to drive in. I was able to appreciate the beautiful fluffy flakes as they fell on my face, to look at the white iced trees hanging over the street.

What a beautiful way to end my 2007 year of running.

Happy 3rd Birthday, Jack!

On Monday, December 24, Jack turned three years old.

Jack's third year has been a crazy one. Luckily, it has been free of surgeries and has included only one trip to the emergency room - and only one ear infection. But we did pack up everything we owned in a "big orgish truck" and leave the only home Jack had ever known. There were also smaller transitions - his crib has been replaced with a toddler bed. Sippy cups are used only to protect our carpeting. Binkies are no longer a constant, but rather are only for sleeping and in the car. He's learning to use the potty with increased consistency - to the point where I am no longer buying giant boxes of diapers at Sam's Club.

His vocabulary has exploded - I could no longer list his words if I tried. He says please and thank you without being asked, and often finds me in the kitchen and asks, "Mommy, may I help you, please?" He can take his pants off by himself and does a decent attempt with his shirt, hampered only by his giant head. He can count to about 15 (then the rest of the teen numbers sound a lot alike), knows how to kick a soccer ball, play tee ball, and stir muffin batter.

In short, he's turned from a baby to a toddler to a kid. And not just any kid - a really cool kid. He has a vivid imagination and sometimes spends entire days pretending to be Luke Skywalker. He tries to make us laugh, doing pratfalls and making up silly words to songs. He gets so excited about everything from the rides at Disney World to an unexpected cookie that he jumps up and down with delight. He thinks that both pirates and princesses are cool. He is not at all shy, willing to march right up to the librarian and say, "I need some help, please. I am looking for a book about Thomas the train."

His birthday was very much a day of fun for a big kid.

He got a tricycle from his Mawmaw and Poppa, which he proceeded to ride all around the kitchen. We went out for lunch with his GrandmaGrandpa, Uncle Andy, and Aunt Ariel, and he was stunningly well behaved. He alternated between putting together a cool puzzle from Grandma and wolfing down kraft macaroni and cheese. He and I made cookie dough together, for later decorating.


We had so much fun that I let him pick out another recipe from my cookie cookbook to make. Not surprisingly, he chose candy cane cookies. I proved that baking kicks ass by letting him help me crunch up candy canes using a hammer. Unfortunately, even though I put the big hammers away, we caught him attempting the same when we left him alone for a moment.
Note not only the candy cane dust and Oscar the Grouch hammer, but also vaguely guilty expression.




I made him reindeer sandwiches for dinner, which he loved.

He got all kinds of Star Wars toys from us for his big day, including a very cool x-wing fighter.



If that wasn't cool enough, my brother made him a Roary cake. Jack especially liked eating the stripes. The night ended with a reading of "Twas the Night Before Christmas," which Jack has a surprising amount of committed to memory, then putting out the cookies that we made for Santa.



Happy birthday, Cub. I am proud to be your mommy.

Much Better

Hey, Internet, thanks for your kind words after my lousy day of mommying the other day. Jack's been doing much better since, and I think the only thing wrong is that he has a serious case of Two Year Old. Thank Yoda it'll all be over on Monday when he turns three!*

Jack was on the verge of turning to The Dark Side again the very next day, and I'm happy to report that we nipped it in the bud. He was offended by the ridiculous suggestion that Mommy and Daddy had that maybe he would like to sit down and eat some food, seeing as how he was hungry and all. Dude was about ready to throw some punches again, so I took him upstairs and we talked. I acknowledged his feelings - that he was mad at MommyDaddy - and had him say it in words. Then we practiced making angry faces, and by the time he was finished telling Pooh all about it (Roary was unavailable), he felt much better.

I really do think that the best way to keep him from hitting is to intervene as quickly as possible. It's like once he starts, he's like, "Hell with it, I'm already misbehaving, so I might as well keep it up." I shall advise him like Yoda: Once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny.







*Don't you dare correct me, people.

Yuck

Last night was going really well. The boys and I had a nice dinner, and Steve and I made plans for the three of us to go for a drive to look at Christmas lights.

Then, Jack had what was basically the Chernobyl of potty training accidents. You would not believe how calmly I handled it, like a real mommy. The strongest emotion I expressed was to say, "Oh, yucky!" It was such a hideous mess that I decided to just give him a bath. I had Steve finish off the bath so I could clean up any additional mess and change my shirt (seriously, people: ew). Jack did not want to get out of the tub, a feeling he expressed by slapping Steve across the face, hard.

Steve put Jack in his time out chair and had me take over. Jack started to apologize, but then punched me. More than once. Back in to his room, this time by himself and with the door closed.

More hitting continued, so we had no choice but to tell Jack that because "nice guys get nice things and mean guys do not" that we would not be going to look at Christmas lights. That resulted in lots of crying.

We finally calmed him down and got him to go to bed, only to have him pop out of bed at least 20 times.

It was a really, really hard day to be a parent.

Geared Up

I finally got in a run, and not a moment too soon, sinc eaccording to the news, we are going to be completely taken over by ice any second now. It felt great to be out running, though when I was finished, my knee hurt again despite having a week off. Looks like I am going to have to break down and make a doctor's appointment.

I also discovered that going running in cold weather requires a lot more gear. For my three mile run, here's what I wore:

1. Hair in pigtails, as a ponytail would not fit under my
2. Hat
3. Sports bra ('cause I'm not Katie Holmes)
4. Long sleeved non-cotton t-shirt
5. Sweatshirt (with mud stains from Living History Farms)
6. Red windbreaker
7. Reflective vest (dorky but safe)
8. Long underwear in non-cotton fabric
9. Fleece pants
10. Socks
11. Shoes
12. iPod

A lot more effort than in the summer, but on the plus side, I got to look at Christmas lights! And, um, participated in the 8 on the 8th 3 Mile Fun Run, held on the 10th, with a time of 26:57. Also, people of Rock Island, Illinois: Shovel your sidewalks.

The Charmed Life of Mr. Jackson Wasser

Jack and I went to the grocery store on Saturday. As we walked in, we had this conversation.

Jack: Maybe we see Santa there!
Me: Buddy, Santa is usually not at the grocery store, so I don't think so. But I guess you never know.
Jack: You never know.

We walk into the grocery store, and BAM! There's Santa. Believe it or not, my local Jewel actually had a Santa talking to little kids.

Frankly, I think that grocery stores should always have a Santa on duty, because Jack behaved like a perfect angel.

Why I'm Not Running

Ugh, Internet - I have not been running all week. I am so cranky about it. Jack was sick, then I was sick, and there were many, many scenes like this...

Setting: Stately Wasser Manor, 5:20 PM
Enter Betsy through back door.

Steve: (Standing in front of fridge, attempting to make dinner) Oh, thank God you're home.
Jack: (Crying hysterically, red faced)
Steve: He has been like this ever since I picked him up. He hit a kid at school, then he was rude to his teachers, then he wouldn't leave, then he complained and whined all the way home. We got home, and he was mad about something in the garage.
Jack: (Sobbing) ANDDADDYDINTLETMEDOMYJOBANDMOMMYALWAYSLETSMEANDIWANNADOMYJOB!
Me: Oh, you didn't let him push the button to close the garage door.
Jack: (Wailing)ITSMYJOBANDADDYDINTLETMEANDI -
Steve: And then I was like, "Jack calm down," but he wasn't Jack, he was Luke, and I was the Wampa and the Wampa doesn't talk and -
Jack: WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!

At this point, it became pretty obvious I was not going running. I picked Jack up, and as his little legs kicked in my grasp, took him upstairs. I bribed him with vitamins to sit on mommydaddy bed and watch Dora with me. It is the "Dora La Musica" episode that we have seen eighty billion times and it bugs me that, for example, Benny says, "I play the drum, banga banga banga" instead of just banging on the drum to illustate the aforementioned banging sound.

Anyway, it worked like a charm, and Jack - who vacilated between being Dora and Senor Shush for several hours - calmed his crazy ass down. Steve (aka Tico) was still a bit freaked out. He needed to go to a basketball game for work, but he had just realized that we were the only house on our block that had not yet shoveled the walks and we are obviously bad citizens and will probably go to jail and all of the neighbors will hate us and -

I went outside and shoveled the walk while he and Senor Shush had cookies.

When Steve took off, I put Jack to bed. During Trip To The Potty #2 (aka The Stall), we had this exchange.

Jack: I will move my stool. That good idea, my friend. Ha, I called you 'my friend.'
Me: Am I your friend?
Jack: Yes you are. I love you.

So, life at Stately Wasser Manor is hectic, but good. I will be able to get back into the running soon (despite the snow).

8 on the 8th? I don't know. But I'll be back.

Gender Politics at Stately Wasser Manor

I find it fascinating to see how Jack, now that he's approaching the ripe old age of three, is starting to understand gender differences. Steve and I are both pretty liberal in how we approach things - there is no such thing as a girl toy or a boy toy in our house. Steve cooks and cleans sometimes, and I am more interested in athletics. Jack got a kitchen for his second birthday. Steve wears pink, and Jack does not own a single item of clothing with a football on it.

He definitely understands the physical differences between men and women. After we watched Shrek The Halls for the first time, he reprised his pretend role of Princess Fiona, and we had this conversation.

Jack: I'm Princess Fiona. You Shrek.
Me: Hi, Princess.
Jack: I have a 'gina.
Me: Did you just say you had a --
Jack: You have a pipper.
Me: Yep. You did.

Our attempts to keep things gender neutral have been mostly successful, it seems. Sometimes Jack pretends that Roary is a baby and that he, as Roary's daddy, has to take care of him. But then we were talking about Christmas presents, and Jack suggested that Santa bring me "a girl toy, like maybe Barbie."

Lovely.

Especially given that Jack had just spent the entire morning pretending to be a princess on her way to the ball, complete with girly dress-up clothes. You would think that a man in a necklace, velvet scarf, and fringed wrap would be a bit more open-minded.

Raising Cane

Last night, the boys and I decorated our Christmas tree. Steve and I were actually planning on doing it after Jack went to bed, but we decided to go for it and involve the wee maniac for the first time. I'm so glad we did.

For weeks, Jack has been fascinated by candy canes. He looks for them in decorations and keeps mentioning that he'd like Santa to bring him one in his stocking. So as you can imagine, he was psyched that his job was to put them on the tree.



He took his job very seriously. While Steve and I put up the rest of the ornaments, Jack concentrated on the canes.



The result was that our tree was covered in candy canes, but only as high as Jack can reach. In fact, he caned the utter hell out of a few patches, leaving the rest a bit more sparse.



When we were finally all done, I turned off the lights and moved Jack's table in front of the tree so we could all have a bedtime snack together. It looked beautiful.



I told several of my friends about this, and they all asked the same question: are we going to leave the tree as Jack decorated it, or wait until he's asleep and fix it? To me, there's no doubt - I'm leaving the candy canes where they are. If I spread them out around the tree, it would look more picture perfect. But it wouldn't make me smile the way it does now.

I am a (shiver) runner!

Without a doubt, the experience of training for, then running a marathon has changed me. In the past, even in my most devoted running times, the second the weather got cold, I'd go right ahead and slack off. I'd pretty much hibernate all winter.

Last night, it was freaking cold outside, but I bundled up and I went running. I hate the idea of running indoors (whether it's on a treadmill or indoor track), and if I have to buy a crazy amount of technical keep-you-warm gear, then that's what I will do, by Yoda!

Brrr!

Thankful

Hi, Internet. I am back from a trip to visit my dad for Thanksgiving. It was a great mini vacation, and I am - you guessed it - thankful for a lot of things.

- That this year, we only had to drive six hours for Thanksgiving dinner. We did not have to spend two days driving like we did last year (apparently after having smoked a whole lot of crack). We also didn't have to get up at the crack of dawn, drive to the airport, lug the suitcase, car seat, stroller, and kid onto the shuttle bus, then wait in line at the ticket counter, then wait in line at security, then take a shuttle to our gate, then fly to one airport, then another because we couldn't get a direct flight. Then get our luggage, then go to the rental car counter, then lug all of our stuff to the shuttle bus to the rental car place, then install the car seat, then load up the rental car, then drive two hours to FINALLY get to my dad's house. I am really damned thankful I didn't have to do all of that crap.

- That, at the halfway point, there is an exit where you can find all in one parking lot, a Shell station, a McDonald's, and a Starbucks. I swear, that place is a little slice of heaven.

- That this year, unlike in years past, Jack was actually willing to sleep.

- That we live so much closer to my dad and Vickie that Jack actually knows them and is excited about visiting them. He did well in the car, but for the last 20 minutes, he got antsy. This he displayed by kicking the back of the seat and saying, "Where is Mawmaw and Papa's house?" It's slightly more charming than it sounds, really.

- That Jack was so excited about the prospect of spending an afternoon walking around the lake with my dad looking for snakes that Steve and I were able to spend an afternoon Christmas shopping.

- That Jack is now old enough to see a family movie. We saw Enchanted, and if you have a heart in your body and a brain in your head, get to the movie theater pronto and see it. It's fantastic.

- That this year, we do not have Jack's surgery looming in the near future like we did last year.

- That Jack is now old enough that we don't have to watch him every second for fear he will launch himself into the fireplace. And that he is happy to play with his cousins, giving us a moment's peace.

- That Jack can play independently for long enough that we could unload the car. Granted, this came at a price. In the short amount of time it took for Steve to take one load of stuff out of the car and for me to pee, Jack emptied every single toy out of his toy bins and onto the floor. It was an unholy mess. He then found our shopping bags and started shoving his toys in random order into them. Why? Because he was one of Santa's elves, and he was getting things ready for the sliegh. It should also be added that Jack should be thankful that he is so cute, or this would have been a lot more annoying than it was.